


Last of the Ghosts

by sinnerman



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2 - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-11
Updated: 2010-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-10 12:32:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinnerman/pseuds/sinnerman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is mostly a test of the AO3 system for my own use.  However, since I have the opening lying around, I figured I might as well use it.<br/>Kestrel Shepard, Renegade, Spacer, Sole Survivor, Soldier.  Genetically optimized Human created before the ban.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last of the Ghosts

"Another row. Line them up," he ordered the bartender.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" said the good-looking man at the end of the bar. His voice was as sexy as his dark brown eyes, and it almost made Kestrel reconsider his plans for the evening.

"I'm still standing," Kestrel answered, "and I can still feel pain. I haven't had enough yet." He put his head in his hands and tried not to think, not to feel.

The stranger pushed away the glasses that the bartender was setting out. "Maybe it will help if you talk," he offered.

Kestrel grinned. "Not to you." He looked up at the stranger. Dark eyes, warm smile, a voice that could melt chocolate. "You're too distracting."

The stranger laughed. "How long have you been trapped on board? Or is that your natural state?"

"Natural," he answered, and reached for a shot glass. "Sorry to disappoint you."

The stranger laid his hand over Kestrel's, stopping him. "No, it's okay. I just like to know what I'm getting into."

Kestrel was acutely aware of the man's warmth close to his, the feel of his fingers on his hand. He didn't say anything for a moment, and felt the fingers close over his hand.

"Come on, let's go somewhere and talk."

Kestrel followed him out of the bar, comfortably close. He smelled like fresh laundry. "Do you have to hit your ship tomorrow?"

He shook his head. "Day after. I'm finishing up medical leave. What about you?"

"I've been reassigned," said Kestrel bitterly. "New ship to babysit, no idea who's in the crew or who the Captain is. I just got yanked off my ship, and my best friend told me he's had enough, and he's not waiting for me to come back anymore. I can't blame him. This is the third time it's happened." He looked over at the stranger, who was smiling quietly. "Yeah, I'm a troublemaker. Don't get attached."

"I won't," he grinned. "But you can't be that bad. You must get the job done, or they wouldn't keep reassigning you."

Kestrel sighed. "I don't know. I've given up trying to understand it all." He looked over at him again. "What are you smiling at?"

"I'm trying to decide if I should ask your name before kissing you."

Kestrel looked around. The entertainment sector was almost empty here, just a few drunks making their way home. The artificial sky of the space station was filled with lights that looked like stars. "Don't," he said suddenly. "I don't want to get hung up on someone right now. Just… you know, just for the moment."

His smile was warm and generous, just like everything else about him. "All right, then. This is probably a bad idea, but," he pulled Kestrel to him, "I'm going to do it anyway."

He tasted like cognac, and he was warmer than anyone Kestrel had ever kissed before. His body was lean and hard, like every Alliance man ought to be. Kestrel buried his hands in the thick, dark hair, and wondered what his life would have been like if he had met this man years ago, instead of the one who had just shattered his heart. Kestrel knew himself well enough to pull away from the burning kisses. "No," he shook his head. "I can't… I can't get involved with anyone right now. I should get back to my quarters now."

"I'll walk you home," he offered.

Kestrel shook his head. "I wouldn't let you go." He knew he should make a stronger effort to get rid of him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. "Just… just put me in a cab. I'll be all right."

He took Kestrel to the cab station without protest, and helped him in. Only when the door was about to close did he lean forward and kiss Kestrel once more. "I would have stayed," he whispered, and let the door close as the taxi pulled away.

* * *

Kestrel looked over the ship.

"Well, Shepard? What do you think?" Captain Anderson seemed a little nervous.

"She's a looker," he said reluctantly. He didn't want to like the Normandy. It was a picked crew, and obviously running a special mission. Once it was over, he'd no doubt be reassigned somewhere else.

Anderson laughed. "Relax, Shepard. She's not gonna bite. Just get to know the crew. I've got your back," Anderson reassured him.

Kestrel smiled in gratitude. "So, where should I hang my hammock?"

"Ah," Anderson shook his head, "we're a little tight on space. Prototypes are like that. Just toss your things in my quarters, you'll stay out of trouble longer that way. Down the stairs, cabin's on the left."

Kestrel saluted, and shouldered his bags. Anderson walked away, leaving his former protégé to start familiarizing himself with the Normandy. Kestrel looked around for a minute, making some mental notes.

"Hey, there isn't room here for your bags and your ego. Can you make a little space?"

Kestrel turned slightly, to see a fresh-faced Marine behind him. "Is that the way you normally address your superior officers, Corporal?"

"I haven't been assigned a superior, yet, so you're still just a civvie as far as I'm concerned. And you're still in my way."

Technically, the kid was right. Anderson hadn't signed him yet, and he wasn't supposed to be on the ship until tomorrow. Kestrel punched the kid anyway. No point in setting a bad precedent.

The Marine dropped like a rock, retching his last meal all over the walkway.

"You're gonna need to get that cleaned up," said Kestrel mildly, and walked away. He headed for the stairs that Anderson had pointed out, while some of the crew on deck, who had already heard Anderson greeting him, ran out to help the young Marine.

He was halfway down the stairs when someone came running up, probably from Medical. Kestrel moved to make room, and cast a quick glance at the medic. His head stopped, but his body kept moving in shock. He was pleased to note that the medic was equally shocked, which was small consolation for the fact that he was about to fall down half a flight of stairs. He was planning out the best way to land, when the dark eyes realized what was happening, and the medic reached out, to try and stop him from falling. Overbalanced by his bag, they both started falling. Kestrel grabbed him, and twisted so that he would take the fall, trying to protect the dark eyed man in his arms.

Only they didn't fall, they were just sort of floating in midair. The man, the stranger from the bar, was leaning comfortably on Kestrel now, surrounded by a faint blue glow.

"You're a biotic," said Kestrel in shock.

"Yes," he smiled. "You realize you would have cracked your skull open? What were you thinking?"

Kestrel flushed. "Oh, I don't use my head for anything important. How did - who - "

"Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko. You know, if you stand up, I could release the stasis field. And you could introduce yourself?" he suggested.

"Oh, right." Kestrel reached out for the wall, and tried to reorient himself so that they were standing, with Kaidan's help. "Thanks." He held out his hand. "Commander Kestrel Shepard."

Kaidan looked a little surprised, but shook his hand without comment. "I have to go patch up Jenkins. Apparently he ran into something and puked all over the floor," said Kaidan, a slight question in his dark, handsome eyes. "Where are you going?"

"Anderson's quarters. He wants me where he can keep an eye on me," Kestrel grinned. "And yeah, it was me. Thanks for the save." He ran down the stairs, out of Kaidan's sight, his heart doing strange things the entire time.


End file.
